


Learning Curve

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: The first of many firsts I want to explore with them. Candid. Pure. Unrefined.
Relationships: Julie "Finn" Finlay/Nick Stokes
Kudos: 3





	Learning Curve

Saturday night. His place. A college football game. His soft sunken worn couch. She wore a Seattle Seahawks jersey, not one of those oversized ones but one that actually fit her body. He could see the strap of a black tank top layered underneath. Blue jeans rounded out her ensemble. Her curly hair bouncing with more exuberance than normal. He opted for a black t-shirt and jeans to make it feel like it was just another day at work but also keep it casual. 

Beer and pizza. Nachos and BBQ chicken wings smothered in sauce. Pepsi and balled up napkins littered his coffee table. A napkin escaped the table, ending up on the floor. They made simultaneous grabs for it, foreheads colliding. They winced and separated, nursing sore spots, mumbling hasty apologies. One look at her with her palm resting on top of her head, massaging away the pain, shifted his entire focus. 

His fingers grasped her wrist as he lowered her hand, peering at the damage he inflicted, finding no bump or scrape. She mumbled frantic phrases like clumsy and embarrassed before she was silenced by his lips pressing against hers. Now who was clumsy, he over thought this process, a simple kiss, why was this so hard to master? Eyes closed, she didn’t pull away or push him aside. His finger found its way under her chin which he tilted up towards him. When he found a natural stopping point, he leaned back, finger still guiding her chin for a moment before slipping away. 

She felt herself go numb when he kissed her. She would be a liar if she tried to tell herself she didn’t half expect this tonight. Seven other football game watch parties had given her some glimmer of hope that he was liking her more than just a friend and colleague. She felt her stomach tense up with an ache of worry for any future they might have being squashed by the incomprehensible and strict rules of the lab. Nevertheless, she bit her lip, savoring the feeling in her stomach that changed from nervous to excited. 

His hand reached up and touched her cheek, rough knuckles grazing across her smooth skin. It pained him that his skin was so rough against hers but she nuzzled against his touch and he let go of the insecurity. Strands of her hair fell against her temples and he could not resist brushing them, tucking some behind her ear, reducing her to a shiver, turning a flush to her cheeks. The whistle from the referee calling an end to a play on the television shook them from their moment and pushed his forehead right back against hers, gentler than the collision moments ago. He swore to her he didn’t plan it this way but didn’t lie that it wasn’t on his mind just a little. She smiled and kissed him back, softer than he ever expected, promising him in a tender whisper, it’s okay; she wants this too. 

He could have swept her off her feet in that moment. He could have kept her on the couch, awkward and a bit tight. Instead he takes her upstairs. To his space. Someplace she hasn’t been to yet and didn’t want to push him to reveal to her if he wasn’t ready. He leaves the hallway and his room dark setting whatever mood he thinks is right. It’s been a while, he confesses and she replies the same which shocks him. In a continued moment of awkwardness, they hover for a moment, knowing they can but unsure how to continue. He’s been holding her hand which she likes, letting her fingers play across his as they lace with hers. She starts swinging his arm playfully as she tugs and guides him to the bed, the back of her legs bumping into the mattress first. 

Letting her take charge is perfectly fine for him but he doesn’t want her to be totally responsible for their fun. He closes the space between them, guiding her into his embrace, one hand resting on her lower back, fingers fluttering against the material of her shirt, tugging at the fabric. She shivers at this contact and stands on her toes to reach him and kiss him again. At first she doesn’t know what to do with her hands except curl them up against her chest but the longer they kiss, the more she starts to relax and wrap her arms around his neck. 

Their height difference is becoming more of a burden than anything in the moment as she struggles to stay on her toes. He can fix that. He shifts his hand from her back to her side, squeezing the soft spot just to tease her. Her arms fall and hands grab at his, a natural reaction. It’s just enough for him to hold both her sides with his hands, pressing his thumbs against her hips, a pressure point that makes her go weak in the knees literally and collapse on the edge of the bed. 

Now he’s in control, his hand finding her back again, tucking his arm around her waist, his other hand finding her stomach, resting there, guiding her to lay back slowly, gently, onto the cool sheets and blankets. Her heart is beating faster as his hands find her wrists, pinning them to the bed in a gentle, yet powerful move that sends her stomach fluttering. She feels his body shift and settle, fingers finding the collar of her shirt, tugging at the fabric, lips finding her neck. She turns her head and gives him all of her skin to kiss, forgetting who she is and how she got here. 

He is strong and sturdy but gentle and slow, taking his time. She likes the coolness of his room and his sheets, shivering when her bare skin comes in contact with them. One by one, they shed layers and dissolve under the covers. Being with him is better than she could have ever imagined. She finds solace in the way he tends to her, he’s nervous, she can tell, but she soothes him with kisses and a gentle caress and assurances, melting him, leaving him breathless. 

The cool sheets hug their bodies as they rest. She can’t bring herself to move, resolving to stay on her back the same as when he first lay her down. All is calm, save for his wandering hand that has taken to exploring her skin. A casual brush of his fingers across her stomach yields a quiet giggle from her. Those same fingers play across her waist, ghosting over once, twice, an immeasurable amount of times, while more giggles escape her. Her natural reaction is to draw her knees up, but he presses his fingers into her side and she stays, resolving to laugh and squirm when he unexpectedly caresses her side. He keeps track of tender spots, tapping on her hip, tracing over goosebumps, connecting the dots to all the ticklish spots he finds. A slip of his hand to her thigh, grazing at the soft skin here sends her into a frenzy of giggles and a sudden grab for his hand, antagonized, floating on a cloud of affection just for her. She turns in his arms, fighting the urge to kick her leg out of his grasp, savoring every slow drag of his fingers on her skin. Maddening. 

Her giggles are the sweetest sound he has ever heard. Enticed, he wants more. With nowhere to be and the comfort of each other’s company luring them to stay, they carry on. She wiggles under the covers, turning on her side, stretching her arms towards him. He embraces, envelops her with his sturdy hold, brushing all of her hair aside so his fingers can play on the back of her neck. From there they slide slowly down her spine. She reacts again, with a sudden shiver, giggles filling the quiet space. Ticklish. He concludes his exploration, how perfect, wonderful, all for him. 

Spoiled. That’s how she feels. Loved. Adored. Worshiped. Put on a pedestal yet kept secret and hidden from the world. A new feeling, a new type of love she was unaccustomed to. She caresses his cheek with the back of her hand, studying his smile at his discovery. Her cheeks flush with the heat of embarrassment again as she mumbles some unnecessary apology for her sensitivity. Don’t be. He assures her. He loves it. She smiles and bites her lip. How did she get so lucky? 

Further proving his adoration for her, he lifts the sheet that separates their bodies, hands finding her sides again, sliding down, holding on, pressing a kiss to her stomach, soft, gentle, tender, she can’t breathe. Her head turns and she laughs into the pillow; bliss. She wants to be like this forever, to have his hands on her constantly, held, kissed. Do it again, the words escape her and he obliges. She closes her eyes so she can be surprised where he kisses her next, savoring the slow way he moves, the way his fingers flutter over her skin first, then his lips touch down and she’s flying. Awkward no more as they embrace their affections purely and with no reservations.


End file.
